


Darling, Hell Is Loving Other People (Febuwhump 2021)

by VoidBrat



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Author is a Toby Smith | Tubbo Apologist, Beta’d because we’re Technoblade and we can’t die, Canon Divergence, Emotional Manipulation, Exiled TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), FebuWhump2021, Gen, Happy Ending, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Insane Wilbur Soot, Lots of it, Memory Loss, Pandora’s Vault, Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Parent Sam | Awesamdude, Poetry, Post-War, Protective Sam | Awesamdude, Protective Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Road Trips, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Time Travel, Villain Alexis | Quackity, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Whump, Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, but that doesn’t mean he’s a good one, just sadness, there’s one but it’s t h e r e okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29273112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidBrat/pseuds/VoidBrat
Summary: 28 prompts. 28 stories. 28 days of pain.28 reasons why loving other people is hell.Come with me as I severely traumatize all of our favorite people from the DreamSMP! This is my take on the Febuwhump prompts of 2021, and while I’m a little late, I intend to finish strong. Each prompt will be its own one shot, though I may connect some if I feel like there needs a continuation.Featuring: Lots of canon divergence, a total of one happy ending currently, virtual snacks, and tears.Enjoy!
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Clay | Dream & Sam | Awesamdude, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Sam | Awesamdude & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Sam | Awesamdude & TommyInnit, Technoblade & Phil Watson, Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Tommyinnit & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 14
Kudos: 80





	1. Day 1: Cutting the Strings (Mind Control)

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this is not a representation of any real person. The characters in this fic are just that, characters. They are based on the characters the ccs play in the DreamSMP, not their real life counterparts.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are more ways than magic to control someone’s mind. Manipulation, Dream’s found, works just as well. He’s going to have complete control over Tommy, just you watch. 
> 
> Characters: Dream, Tommy, Tubbo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during Tommy’s Exile arc! 
> 
> Trigger warnings: This one is pretty heavy. There’s a lot of manipulation, and major character death. Please keep yourself safe.
> 
> Again, this is not a representation of any real person. This is solely based off of Dream’s character in the DreamSMP.

It’s surprisingly easy, Dream finds, to get Tommy to do what he wants. 

It starts with small things. Asking him to fetch a drink, or share some food. Things he can’t say no to, not if he wants to be polite. And Dream makes sure Tommy wants to be polite. 

If Tommy makes a rude remark, or refuses to do something, Dream can always leave. He makes sure Tommy knows that. He does leave once, when Tommy gets too annoying. He savors the broken look on the child’s face as he heads through the portal, leaving Tommy bitterly, bitterly alone. 

The next time Dream comes, Tommy’s quiet and apologetic. He does pretty much anything Dream asks. Dream makes sure not to push him too much, pleased by the progress. It’s a big step forward, considering a little less than a week ago Tommy was ruining the negotiations with L’Manburg. 

It gets better (or worse, depending on how you look at it) from there. 

Dream starts making Tommy do more things. He has the boy give him any materials he finds, then destroys them right in front of him. At first, Tommy gets mad. He yells at Dream, tries to get his stuff back, altogether makes quite the ruckus. 

Another few days alone fixes that right up. Dream can barely hold in his smirk when Tommy comes running up after he exits the portal. Tommy looks much worse for wear, his hair and eyes duller, his clothes deteriorating. His mental state, it seems, is worse too. He clings to Dream like a lifeline and lets out a little sob when Dream shoves him away. 

“I’m still mad, Tommy. You’re going to have to work extra hard to fix our friendship.” Dream tells Tommy, barely hiding the smirk behind his mask. “You wouldn’t want to lose your only friend, right?” 

It’s almost poetic, the way Dream slowly severs Tommy’s ties to everyone else, all the while stringing the boy up in his own puppet strings. It’s oh so easy to convince the broken ghost to give him the invitations to Tommy’s little beach party, and even easier to rip them all up and toss them into the wind. It’s almost boring how easy it is to keep those in L’Manburg from coming to see Tommy. It’s mind-numbingly simple to convince him no one cares about him.

It’s also fun. It’s so fun, pulling Tommy around like a puppy on a leash, playing him like a deck of cards, manipulating him into being the perfect puppet. The perfect friend. 

Tommy’s face blanches, and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Dream. I won’t yell like that again. I shouldn’t have done that.” Dream can see it in his earnest little face, that intense longing to have someone care about him. 

“It’s— well, it’s not okay, Tommy. But it will be. As long as you do better.” It takes everything Dream has not to laugh. Tommy’s nodding so quickly, it looks like he might break his neck. It’s almost comical. He wants so badly to be better, Dream can tell. Dream will use that. 

He sends Tommy off to gather supplies, and is infinitely pleased when the boy brings everything he got straight to Dream. Dream lets him keep some things. He has to be a good friend, of course. 

The next couple of days pass like that. Dream comes and visits, Tommy gives him things, and Dream puts on the mask of a friend. He pretends to support Tommy when he cries. He guides Tommy back on the right track when Tommy does something. He provides “reassurance” that he cares about Tommy, that he’s the only one who cares about Tommy. 

He starts asking Tommy to do more for him. 

Dream doesn’t have to force Tommy to put his armor and weapons in the hole anymore. He had to the first few times, but now, the boy does so willingly. He protests a bit, but a sharp word from Dream easily silences him. 

Dream tells him to light the TNT himself once. “I don’t have a flint and steel,” he lies, concealing his smirk, “but you do, don’t you? Light it for me.” 

The best part is that Tommy does it. It takes a bit of prompting, but with a shuddering breath, Tommy takes out his own flint and steel and lights the TNT. He’s a bit too close to the explosion, his almost completely dull hair getting singed. All the things he worked so hard to get are destroyed in an instant, all by his own hand. 

Dream realizes, in that moment, that it’s not only Tommy’s stuff that’s blown to pieces as the TNT explodes. It’s Tommy’s resolve to fight back, gone with his measly weapons. His self-preservation burns to ash like his crudely fashioned armor. His spark and anger dissipate into ash, mingling with the smoke from the little crater. 

Any semblance of control he had left is gone. It’s all Dream’s now. Dream watches Tommy’s control seep out of him as the smoke blots out the stars, as the last bit of light in this desolate place goes out. Dream lays a hand on Tommy’s shoulder, and Tommy leans into it, relishing the comfort from the man who’s hurt him so much. Dream couldn’t be prouder of himself. 

Dream knows, now, that it’s time to put the next phase of his plan into action. Tommy’s attached to him now. That gives Dream the most power over Tommy. Once Dream severs his attachment to everything else, Dream will have complete control. Dream will have complete control over the cause of every single conflict on the server. He can’t wait. 

He’s just got to get rid of Tommy’s other attachments first. 

Tubbo’s also easy to manipulate. He’s not as fun as Tommy, but he’s useful. Dream’s gotten bored of him, though, and it’s about time his purpose is fulfilled. 

Getting him to Logstedshire is easy enough. The child’s desperate, losing control over his nation. Dream sees the way Tubbo’s cabinet lusts for power. They use him just as much as Dream does, and he can see the toll it’s taking on the boy. So, Dream offers him an escape. 

“I can’t say that he’d be happy to see you. He’s really mad at you still. He might even hate you.” Dream tells Tubbo smoothly as they stand at the edge of the Nether portal. “But you’re welcome to go.” 

Tubbo’s anxious and fidgeting with a little compass necklace, checking it every now and then. He’s hesitating so much, which annoys Dream to no end. “He’s— he’s really there, though? I can really go see him?” The hope in Tubbo’s voice is sickening. Dream can’t wait to be rid of it. 

“Yes,” Dream responds exasperatedly. “But only if you hurry. Don’t make me change my mind.” He only lets a hint of his true anger through. He doesn’t want to scare Tubbo away. 

Tubbo’s little flinch at the minuscule amount of annoyance almost makes the waiting worth it. “Okay. I’m— I’m going.” He clutches the little compass and steps through. Dream follows close behind him, boxing him in, making sure he can’t run. He placing a firm hand on the back of the child’s neck, guiding him through the portal and to the beach, where Tommy is waiting. 

Tommy’s got the trident Dream gave him as a gift. He almost drops it when he sees Tubbo, but doesn’t. He doesn’t look like he believes what he’s seeing. 

“Tommy,” Dream lilts, a smile as wide on the one on his mask across his cheeks, “I brought you another gift. Your Tubbo.” 

Tommy looks like he’s going to be sick. Dream watches as he looks from Tubbo, to Dream, and back to Tubbo, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. Tubbo goes to say something, but Dream squeezes the back of his neck once, as a warning. Both boys are silent. 

“And he brought your disc, too!” That had been a little harder to convince Tubbo to do, but in the end, Dream had managed. “Well, Tubbo? Aren’t you going to give it to him?” 

Tubbo’s trembling a little under Dream’s grip, a fact Dream smirks even wider at. “I— I can’t—“ He manages, and Tommy’s face falls even more, if that were possible. “You’d just— you’d just take it, Dream!” Tubbo tries to reason. 

If Tommy was in his right mind, maybe he’d believe Tubbo, but Tommy’s not in his right mind, a fact Dream is betting on. “You don’t care about it!” Tommy retorts, a little bit of that anger Dream used to hate coming back. This time, however, Dream can use it. “You said it yourself, the discs don’t matter! You just don’t want me to have them!” 

“That’s right, Tommy.” Dream purrs, fanning the flames he usually would put out. “He’s being selfish. He’s selfish, and he hates you. He’s not your friend. He didn’t come visit you at all. He’s the reason you’re here in the first place.” 

It’s not like Tommy needs much convincing at that, but Dream has to make sure he knows it. Tommy can’t question it at all if he’s going to do what Dream wants. Tommy nods, even though he looks hesitant.

Tubbo tries to speak up again, but Dream squeezes again, harder. “Look at him, trying to defend himself. He won’t even take accountability for what he did. For how much he hurt you.” Dream shakes Tubbo slightly, earning a small whimper. The boy seems too stunned to even fight back. 

“He’s a bad friend, isn’t he, Tommy?” This couldn’t go better. Tommy’s nodding along, Tubbo’s crying, and Dream has all the power. It’s exhilarating. 

If he didn’t want full control so badly, Dream might’ve kept Tubbo around. However, Tubbo’s a threat to his control, and therefore, must be disposed of. 

“You know, if he’s not going to give you the disc, you should just take it.” Dream shoves Tubbo toward Tommy. Tommy clutches the trident tighter. “Just do it. Get rid of him. Get rid of the person who hurt you so much.” 

Oh, the look on Tommy’s face is golden. He’s so conflicted. He wants to please Dream, but he doesn’t want to hurt Tubbo. Tubbo’s expression is even better. Tears of betrayal are streaming down his face, and he’s pleading with Tommy, begging him not to do this. 

Dream ignores everything Tubbo’s saying, focusing solely on Tommy. “Don’t listen to him! He’s just trying to manipulate you, Tommy! He’s trying to hurt you again!” 

That’s when Tommy snaps. All of the pent up anger he’s had to keep in around Dream explodes out, and it’s almost like he has no control over his actions. He’s had to be so well-behaved around Dream, in fear that Dream would leave him, and his resolve is paper thin. Dream’s words rip right through it, and Tommy lunges. 

Tubbo puts up a fair fight. He and Tommy are both former child soldiers, so Tubbo’s not completely helpless. Tommy’s always been better at fighting though, and Tubbo’s unarmed. Tubbo also doesn’t seem to want to hurt Tommy. Tommy has no such inhibitions, Dream’s made sure of it. 

In minutes, Tommy has Tubbo pinned, staring down with such hatred Dream almost gets a chill. “Finish it, Tommy. Get rid of the one controlling you.” He orders, and Tommy complies. 

Tommy complies. 

He does it. He stabs the trident through Tubbo’s chest. Tubbo screams, but not even that seems to break Tommy from this trance of anger. It’s only when Tubbo’s struggles weaken completely, and his last shuddering breaths leave his chest, that Tommy realizes what he’s done. 

Tommy screams too, then, and backs up quickly. His hands are shaking and covered in blood and Dream wants to remember this moment for the rest of his life. Tommy lets out a loud sob, stumbling to Dream and crying into him, going to him for comfort like he didn’t just order Tommy to kill his best friend. 

Because he didn’t. Dream’s Tommy’s best friend now, that much is clear. Tubbo was nothing but an obstacle to get out of the way. 

Dream tells Tommy that as he strokes the crying boy’s hair, trying to calm him down. He comforts Tommy, gives him the affection he needs, smirking all the while under his now bloodstained white mask. 

Tubbo was the last string to cut. Dream finishes tying his own to Tommy as the child sobs through the night, and by the time they get rid of Tubbo’s body, Dream’s made Tommy the perfect marionette. 

Now, Tommy’s completely under Dream’s control. Soon, the server will follow. Minus one child president, buried in an unmarked grave. That doesn’t matter to Tommy anymore, though. 

Dream’s made sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I’m— sorry. 
> 
> Have some virtual honey buns? Get it, honey, like bees? For Tubbo? 
> 
> (Oops don’t kill me please—)


	2. Day 2: Breaking Thin Ice (“I can’t take it anymore”)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wilbur’s been on thin ice for a while. Maybe letting it crack would be better for everyone. 
> 
> Characters: Wilbur, mostly. Phil, Tommy, and Techno are mentioned and are pretty important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set after the festival, right around the time Wilbur blew up L’Manburg. Sleepy Bois Inc is a family, but Tubbo isn’t part of it, 
> 
> Trigger warnings: Mentioned suicidal thoughts? It’s implied through a metaphor but it could potentially be too much, and if it is, please click off. Your safety comes first.

Wilbur used to love ice skating. 

He hated the cold, but ice skating is what made winter worth it. On the winter days when the entire family were home, sometimes they’d all head out to the big lake a mile or so into the woods that surrounded their home. It always froze over in the winter, so they’d make a day out of going to it and going ice skating. 

Wilbur loved it. There weren’t many times when the family was all together, as Techno and Phil loved to travel, and Tommy was always off getting into trouble somewhere. On the ice skating days by the lake, however, Wilbur had everyone he loved in one spot, all doing an activity he loved. It was the purest form of joy he could experience. 

They’d pack a lunch and have a picnic on the lake’s snowy shore. Phil would make Wilbur’s favorite. They’d make a little fire, boiling milk for hot cocoa and toasting marshmallows. With their bellies and hearts full, it didn’t seem like the day could get better. 

That’s when they’d bring out their skates. Wilbur’s were his prized possession as a teen. He had made them himself, working for hours one summer so that they’d be ready when the lake froze. He’d help Tommy out on the ice, as Techno would awkwardly attempt to skate around them. Phil would watch from the shore and smile at his boys. 

They’d skate for hours, until the sun began to go down or they got too cold. Then they’d pack up and head back. Sometimes, it would snow on the way back, and Tommy would start up a snowball fight. They’d get home, covered in melting snow and sore and freezing, but they’d all be laughing. 

Phil would send his boys off to change into dry clothes, starting a fire to keep them warm. Once they were dry and bundled up on the old couch, Techno would grab a book off the shelf, and tell them a story. 

When they were all nice and sleepy, Wilbur would take out his guitar and play a soft lullaby. Tommy always fell asleep right before Wilbur finished. In the end, they’d all probably end up asleep in a heap on the couch. 

In the morning, Phil would probably head out. He might take Techno with him. Tommy could get mad, and he and Wilbur might fight. But before that, they got to enjoy the end of a perfect day. 

Sometimes, however, the days didn’t end perfectly.

Once, when Wilbur was around 16, they went on their trip a little later in the year. It was the end of February, and the spring warmth was slowly making its way through the frost. The family didn’t think anything of it, however. 

Phil was a little hesitant. He knew that sometimes the ice got thinner when the air began to warm, and he warned the others of that. Wilbur, however, was insistent. That year, Phil and Techno had been gone almost all the time, leaving Wilbur and Tommy alone for sometimes full months. Tommy was at a difficult age, where he was arguing with Wilbur every other day. 

They had to go to the lake. If they didn’t, it would really seem like their family was falling apart, and Wilbur couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take Tommy being mad, or Phil itching to leave, or Techno looking bored. He couldn’t take being alone anymore. 

So they went out to the lake. 

It was fun, at first. It started like any other trip. They ate, they laughed. Then they went out on the ice. Wilbur was a little more reckless than usual. He did moves he had never attempted before, falling and scraping his hands against the rough ice. He raced Techno and Tommy around and around, tripping several times and almost losing his balance. He was happy, though. They were together, and he didn’t have to worry about being alone. 

Then he went a bit too far out. He was skating along the rim of the shore, away from everyone else. He thought he would be fine. He had read somewhere that ice was thickest on the edge of the shore (or was that in the middle? He didn’t remember, and didn’t care) so he wasn’t worried. 

He spun and laughed without a care in the world, his family happily watching from across the lake. Then he heard the crack. 

Wilbur was wrong. Ice was thinnest near the shore, and he had hit a particularly thin patch that had been warmed by the late afternoon sun. Cracks spread out beneath his feet, and he screamed, trying to get to the shore in time. He didn’t. 

Though it was close to the shore, the water was still plenty deep, and Wilbur fell through. He was swept under, watching the light disappear through stinging as. He couldn’t help but scream again, and water filled his lungs. He knew how to swim, sure, but the water was freezing and he was scared and disoriented. 

He was drowning. He was dying. 

Someone came for him, of course. This was before their family fractured, so Phil immediately unfurled his wings and flew to where Wilbur had disappeared. Wilbur didn’t know how he did it, but Phil saved him, pulling him up to the ice. 

The horrified family was able to make it home in one piece, and Wilbur was eventually nursed back to health. It was a scare that stayed with them all. They never went back to that lake. 

Even as a teen, Wilbur caused his own demise. That should have been a warning. 

Being exiled from L’Manburg felt like realizing he was on thin ice. 

Something Wilbur loved, twisting and changing and becoming the very thing that hurt him so badly. The ice splintered under him as he realized that everyone around him was betraying him. The current threatened to pull him under as he realized who the real villain was in the story. 

He was the villain. He was the one who went too far, who made the ice start cracking beneath him. He was the one ruining the very thing he loved so dearly. 

He just couldn’t take it anymore. 

Why not destroy it completely? Why not stomp down and shatter the ice and let the freezing water steal the breath from his lungs and from everyone who hurt him? It would be so easy. The cold could numb the pain. 

And besides, someone would swoop in at the last minute, like Phil had. Someone could save them. Someone could save Wilbur. 

That’s what, deep down, he hoped for as he rigged TNT throughout Manburg. 

Techno wasn’t going to save them, but he would help Wilbur destroy it all. Slowly, the hope of rescue died down, as Wilbur breathed out his last bubbles of sanity. He decided he wasn’t only going to break the ice. He’d destroy it completely, decimate the thing he once loved, just like he had all those years ago with the trips to the lake. 

(Deep down, a part of him whispered that he couldn’t do this, that he couldn’t take another fall through the ice, that he'd never really recovered from the first time and there’s no way he’d recover from this. He didn’t listen. He squished those whispers down until they were nothing but a smear of what might have been remorse.)

When the time came, when the rebels won L’Manburg back, Wilbur was ready to break the ice. His hand was raised to press the button, his foot to stomp the ice in. He would have done it, too. 

Phil swooped in at the last second, like he had all those years ago when Wilbur was drowning. He pleaded with Wilbur, tried to convince him that pressing the button wasn’t a good idea, but Wilbur wasn’t listening. His ears were underwater already. 

“I can’t take it anymore.” He whispered. Maybe he hadn’t said it out loud at all. His words were nothing but bits of air, drifting to the surface. 

But they were true. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t take his broken family, his lost nation, his betrayals anymore. He couldn’t take the fact that he wasn’t on solid ground, that he might not have been since he fell through the ice all those years ago. He couldn’t take the freezing water filling his lungs. He just wanted it to be over. 

So he whispered the words of a traitor, pressed the button, heard Phil scream, felt the destruction rain down around them, and finally broke the ice. 

Unlike the first time the ice broke, Wilbur wasn’t met with frigid fear. In fact, he felt warm. For the first time in a very long time, he felt warm. Even as he begged Phil to kill him, even as his own father did as he asked and buried a sword in his chest, even as his soul was set free, Wilbur felt warm. 

The people he loved, however, were left drowning and freezing under the ice he had broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a fun one to write, but it made me a little sad. I liked the ice skating metaphor a bit too much lol. 
> 
> Since we’re talking about ice skating and it being cold and all, have a virtual hot cocoa! Stay warm!


	3. Day 3: Daedalus, Refuted (Imprisonment)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam finds himself caring about two kids he’d do anything to protect. The he finds himself as the creator of the very thing that will hurt them.  
> (Or the “Sam’s only known Tubbo and Tommy for a few days but if anything happened to them he’d kill everyone in the room and then himself” chapter.)
> 
> Characters: Sam, Tommy, Tubbo, and Dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set at the Disc Confrontation/season finale. 
> 
> Twigged warnings: Not many. Referenced abuse and manipulation but it’s not explicit. Potential character death.

If Sam had known who the prison was meant for, he would have never built it in the first place.

He had never been close to Tommy and Tubbo, not at first. He had known of them, sure. Everyone on the server knew of them, unless you lived under a rock. He had felt bad for them. They were children, they shouldn’t have been through so much war and pain at such a young age. 

Then he met the kids. Tubbo had come to him first, wanting help with a redstone project. The child was sweet and polite, but he was also withdrawn, more so than a kid his age should be. He seemed hesitant to ask for help, too hesitant. That worried Sam. 

He didn’t let it show, though. He helped Tubbo with his project, made the kid stay for lunch since he was far too skinny, and sent him on his way. After that, he visited Sam more often. Sometimes it was for help with redstone, sometimes it was just to hang out. Sam enjoyed their time together. Tubbo was warming up to him and opening up. Sam didn’t understand how so many people could hate this boy. He didn’t understand how so many people could and wanted to hurt him. 

Tommy tagged along a couple of times. According to Tubbo, he was “clingy”, which Sam took to mean that Tommy didn’t want to be alone. After the first few times of him following Tubbo, Sam let Tommy come in too. Tommy was horrible at redstone, but he liked to watch, and he kept up good conversation. 

The false bravado and carefree front Tommy put up became easy for Sam to see through the more they spent time together. Like Tubbo, Tommy had also been hurt too many times. He was desperate for approval and acceptance, and that almost broke Sam’s heart. 

Neither boy talked about what had caused them to become this way, and Sam didn’t really ask. He had seen the fallout of Doomsday. He could see the firework scars clear across Tubbo’s face, and the burns decorating Tommy’s hands. That was enough to know whatever had broken these boys had been horrible. 

Over the couple of days they spent together, they grew close. Between everything happening with the Eggpire and building the prison, Sam hadn’t been able to have many people he cared about around. The boys were a comfort. Their laughter and bright smiles brought something he hadn’t realized he had been missing. Sam hoped he was helping them, too. The kids needed a good adult in their lives, and Sam hoped he could fill that role. 

When they went off to confront Dream and get Tommy’s discs back, Sam was waiting for them along the path with many others. Tommy hugged him once before rushing off to talk with Quackity about something or another. Tubbo lingered. 

Tubbo hugged him tightly, and Sam could tell he was trying not to cry. “Thanks for helping me with everything. You’ve been a really good friend, Sam, you’re really cool.” He had mumbled, burying his face in Sam’s oil stained overalls to hide his tears. 

“Thank you, Tubbo.” Sam hugged him back, having to stoop over a bit to comfortably hug the small teen. “I’m always here if you need me. If something goes wrong, just give me a call, alright? I’ll be there in a heartbeat.” 

Tubbo promised he’d call. He finally let Sam go, wiping at the tears trickling down his cheeks. “After we win, can we come over to your workshop again?” He asked softly, as though he wasn’t exactly sure they would win. 

Sam smiled. “Of course. I expect to see you there, I’ll make dinner and everything.”

Tubbo’s face lit up like a sunrise, like the doubt had been chased from his mind. “Thank you, Sam!” He called, before racing down the path after Tommy. Sam watched him go with a smile.

Later, at the workshop, Sam waited, checking his communicator every now and then to see if anything had happened. The soup he had prepared for the kids had gone cold hours ago. There had been no news. 

Finally, the communicator buzzed. Sam sighed in relief, picking it up, expecting to see a victorious message from Tommy or Tubbo. If not that, then a message asking for help. He did not expect this. 

The message was from Dream. “I need your help detaining a prisoner,” it read. “Meet me at these coordinates.” 

Sam’s heart dropped.

The coordinates took him to a large mountain, and then far, far underground. He finished the journey in half the time he should have, using pearls and chugging speed potions. If this was any other time, he would have praised Dream’s redstone skills for building such an amazing elevator. But the only thing Sam could focus on was what waited for him as he stepped off the elevator. 

Tubbo was lying a few feet away from a Nether portal, bleeding and unconscious. Sam hoped he was unconscious, at least. He couldn’t bear to think of anything else. In the middle of the room, Tommy was struggling against Dream, shouting and fighting, tears streaming down his face. Dream’s mask had gotten knocked off during the fight and he was staring down at Tommy with a malicious sort of glee. 

That horrible smirk widened when Dream saw Sam. He let Tommy drop, and the boy fell to a heap on the cold floor. “Awesamdude! Just in time!” Dream brushed his hands off and grabbed his mask, fixing it over his face. Tommy went to crawl away, to maybe try to get to Tubbo, but Dream stopped that quickly by stomping down on the child’s back. 

Tommy went still, and Sam was horrified. The look must have shown on his face, because Dream laughed. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m apprehending a criminal. And I need your help.” 

“I’m not going to help you!” Sam snapped incredulously. “That is not a criminal! That’s a child! You shouldn’t— you shouldn’t be doing this, Dream. This is wrong.” 

Even with the mask secured back on, Sam could feel Dream’s look, a mix of disappointment and amusement. “This isn’t about what’s right or wrong Sam. You of all people should know this. You’re the one who built the prison for me, after all! I own it. You just built it.” He tipped his head arrogantly and Sam wanted nothing more than to punch him. “And you’re going to help me, or I’ll leave the other brat here to bleed out.” 

Those words froze Sam. It took a second to register, as Sam slowly looked to where Dream had nodded. There was Tubbo, bleeding and broken, and much too still. 

“I don’t need him, you know.” Dream said nonchalantly, like he wasn’t talking about the life of a child. “And he doesn’t have much time. So I’d suggest you go ahead and help me with the two of them.” 

“I’ll do it.” Sam said immediately. He didn’t know, then, what he was signing himself up for, but he knew he had to save Tubbo. He couldn’t lose the sweet boy who he had sworn to protect the moment Tubbo had asked for help with a project. 

A big grin split Dream’s face, which Sam could just feel under the mask. “Good. Go ahead and grab him, you can give him medical attention or whatever when we get to the prison.” Dream grabbed Tommy himself, and Sam had to suppress a shiver at the way the boy just went completely limp. 

Sam, as gently as possible, lifted Tubbo up. They didn’t have time to survey his injuries now, but Sam knew he needed to get Tubbo somewhere relatively safe. His mind raced as he tried to figure out a way to get both boys to safety and escape Dream. For once in his life, Sam had no ideas. 

All he could do was follow Dream through the Nether portal, taking the very children he wanted to protect to the place he had made as dangerous as possible. 

Sam decided that he really hated Greek mythology. He had heard about Technoblade’s speech about the story of Theseus, and he had to admit, it unfortunately fit all too well. As he followed Dream through the Nether, desperately trying to make sure Tubbo kept breathing, he was reminded of another part of Theseus’s story. 

He remembered the tale of Daedalus, the man who made the maze Theseus was trapped in. After the maze was completed, the king who had asked for it imprisoned Daedalus there. 

That story had always bothered Sam. It bothered him even more now that he was basically living it. 

Dream didn’t speak the entire way to the prison. He just led Sam and Tommy through the Nether, an arrogant swagger to his step. Tommy was quiet too, out of fear, Sam guessed. Tubbo was completely silent, other than little shuddering breaths every now and then that broke Sam’s heart but at least let him know Tubbo was alive. 

Finally, they arrived at the prison. Dream waited patiently for Sam to let them in. Sam knew he didn’t have a choice, and he hated this. He did it anyway, because Tubbo’s breathing had slowed even more, and he knew they were running out of time. 

The rest passed in a blur. Dream had Tommy taken to the maximum security cell, and left Tubbo in Sam’s care. Sam fixed Tubbo’s injuries to the best of his abilities. The next thing he knew, he was putting Tubbo in one of the regular cells as well, Dream basically breathing down his neck. 

As he locked the door to Tubbo’s cell, another piece clicked into place. If Sam was Daedalus, then Tubbo was Icarus. He was the one who was paying for Sam’s mistakes. And if Sam remembered anything from that myth, it’s that things didn’t turn out well for Icarus. 

Well, this wasn’t a myth. This was real life. Sam was going to change the ending if it killed him. 

Or bankrupted him. 

It was easy enough to convince Punz to help him, given that the amount of diamonds Dream had paid Sam for the prison were more than pretty much anyone else had ever even held. After that, it was only a matter of convincing enough of the others to help. 

It wasn’t hard. Almost everyone one in the entire server had gotten attached to the boys the same way Sam had. It took a few days of planning, but eventually, they were all ready. Dream didn’t stand a chance.

The best thieves are lock-makers, so obviously, wardens are the best prison-breakers. Sam had built the place from the ground up, so he knew exactly how to break in, how to free his boys. In the end, Dream was where he belonged, locked behind bars, all alone. 

Sam, on the other hand, enjoyed a day in his workshop, his boys by his side. It would take time for them to become whole, and a lot of healing, but they were alive and safe. Sam made sure they knew that. 

In some, forgotten versions of the myth, when Icarus flew too close to the sun, Daedalus was there to catch him. Sam caught his boys, and together, they flew home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to give it a happy ending, this one was for one of my friends. I don’t like this one as much, as I had a better idea for it at the beginning but it sort of went downhill as I kept writing. 
> 
> Have some virtual warm chocolate chip cookies, they go good with happy endings! Thank you for reading, as always it means a lot!


	4. Day 4: Listen, Time is Echoing (-Alt7- Time Travel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karl’s good at listening, which is a good thing when time travel steals your memories. Luckily, he has two people he cares about to help him come back. 
> 
> Characters: Karl, Quackity, Sapnap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This includes references to the Tales of the SMP, and is set after the episode The Masquerade. Also, the relationship between Karl, Sapnap, and Quackity is stated as platonic, but it can be read as romantic. Please don’t ship the actual people though, that’s kind of weirdchamp.
> 
> Trigger warnings: Character death, self worth issues. Nothing too bad, this is more of a melancholy chapter than anything else.

If you listen, the world has secrets for you. 

Karl’s always been good at listening. Little things tell him everything he needs to know. He’s told where he is, what he’s doing, and who he is. Those are things he desperately needs to know. 

Like right now. The silence tells him he is alone. The pang in his chest tells him he doesn’t like that. The cold air makes him shiver, telling him he should be afraid. He is cautious as he walks through the halls of the castle. 

He listens more, trying to figure out what happened, and why he is in this strange, empty place. He looks down at his patchwork hoodie, its colors faded, and the grayscale tells him he is far from home. The lonely wind whistles through the castle halls, telling him this place is familiar. His heart stutters in his chest painfully and that tells him he wishes it wasn’t. 

There is a book in his hands. He reads the book, and it tells him many things. It tells him his mission, and it tells him that he will keep forgetting unless he completes it. It does not tell him what he is forgetting, and that leaves a hollow pit in Karl’s stomach. 

(Part of him remembers a beanie and a headband, telling him he is at home. He remembers soft wings and warm flames, telling him he is safe. He remembers hugs that tell him he is loved and he remembers missing them terribly. Then those thoughts are gone, leaving him with an emptiness that tells him he has to remember, no matter what.) 

After he reads all the books, after he is told where he is, he still finds himself there. This is the In-Between place, he knows that now, and it is his home away from home, even if he feels sick and lost here. He’s been here many times before, but it doesn’t feel like it. It feels wrong. 

He’s looking at the face of a stranger. 

Their messy brown hair tells Karl they are in a hurry, and that they don’t know if they’re going to be able to make it. Their pale face tells him they are scared. Their dull brown eyes are haunted, which tells him they’ve been through a lot of bad things. 

Still, they’ve got a small smile, telling Karl they’re resilient. Their fists are clenched, and Karl knows they’re stronger than they believe. Their patched clothes tell him they’ve been in lots of adventures and that they have someone who cares about them enough to make sure they’re still warm. They hold themselves in a way that tells Karl they are determined, and though they have the weight of time itself on their shoulders, they will keep going. 

A touch to glass tells Karl that this is a mirror. He feels a jolt of fear that he doesn’t recognize his own face, but he also feels stronger, because he is resilient and strong and loved and determined. He knows he can do this. He smiles at the stranger in the mirror and the world goes dark. 

When Karl wakes up, he is alone, in a small room filled with books. He’s in his library, and he has to write down everything. The fuzzy memories are painful, but he has to tell the story of what he saw in the past timeline. 

He takes out an empty book, entitling it “The Masquerade.” He begins to write, and as he does, the memories come back, flooding him with fear and the pages with words. 

He tells of a party held at a mansion, with a cruel leader taking advantage of the trust put in him. The rich man was not the first to do so, and he will not be the last. History, Karl notes with a heavy sadness, repeats itself. The echoes of Sir Billiam III are shown in Schlatt, then Wilbur, and now Bad, all good people once, corrupted by power and influence. 

As Karl keeps writing, he keeps remembering. It hurts, his memories. He feels the fear of discovering the bodies all over again, and the betrayal of trust. He feels the pain as he is killed. 

There is a new tear in his hoodie, right across his stomach where he had gotten stabbed. He finishes writing and presses a hand to it, feeling the phantom pain. There isn’t a scar, but the tear tells him all he needs to know. He should be dead. 

He reads his other books before he leaves, trying to remember. There are still things that are foggy, that he does not understand. He has the gist of it now, though. He is a time traveler. He gets lost in the In-Between, and then he cannot remember. 

He knows he has to keep going to the In-Between. He has to remember the history for everyone else, and learn what comes in the future, so that he can make the future better. He wants— needs to make people happy. If he forgets, so be it. If he has to die a thousand times, so be it. 

He remembers his look and the mirror, and he tells himself he is not afraid. 

He is afraid when he seals up his library and steps out into the warm sun. 

He’s on the edge of a crater, one he barely remembers. It’s the sight of one of his stories, The Town That Never Was. He shakes his head. That’s not right. This was L’Manburg, another town that was once but isn’t anymore. He shudders, wishing that he could have gone back in time and saved it. 

Time doesn’t really care about what he wants, and he knows this. He is alone as he walks beside the crater. His mind is full of unhappy memories, ones that he wishes he could forget. It’s not fair, that he doesn’t remember the good things, that only the bad sticks with him. It’s not fair at all. 

Life, and time, aren’t fair at all. 

A shadow blocks out the sun. At first, Karl is afraid as the winged person lands in front of him. He’s not exactly sure what timeline he’s in, and there’s no telling if this person is hostile. They start running at him, shouting, and Karl is about to bolt. 

Until he sees the beanie on their head, the one that says he is home, and their yellow wings, the ones that say he is safe. They crush him in a hug and he is very, very loved. 

“Quackity!” He surprises himself, remembering their— Quackity’s name. Karl hugs the shorter man back tightly, memories, happy memories for once, surrounding him and grounding him in place. 

Quackity lets out a relieved sound, before he holds Karl out at arm’s length to get a good look at him. “Karl, where have you been? Me and Sapnap have been worried sick and here I find you wandering around the crater where the Egg’s corruption has spread and—“ 

Karl understands very little of what Quackity is saying, so he doesn’t respond. He buries his face in Quackity’s shoulder, letting his best friend’s embrace calm him. He’s home. He’s safe. He’s loved. 

“You know what, never mind. Let's just get you home. You’re probably tired and I’m really not helping interrogating you like this, huh?” Quackity laughs a little, his wings folding around them and making Karl feel even safer. “Did you rip your hoodie again? Sapnap’s gonna have to make another patch, isn’t he?” 

Karl laughs a little, resisting the urge to tell Quackity that the tear wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t meant to get stabbed. He realizes that that might raise more questions he’s not prepared to answer, and just stays quiet instead. He takes Quackity’s hand and allows him to lead them both back to wherever their home is. 

The warm breeze tells him that everything will be alright. The cozy house in the place Quackity reminds him is called El Rapids tells him that this is where he’s supposed to be. Even if he doesn’t remember, he’s happy, and that tells him that everything will be alright. 

His other best friend hugs him tightly too, filling him with that same feeling of love. Sapnap smells like soot and that should be horrifying in this place where fire has destroyed so much, but Karl knows that Sapnap’s fire is one that nurtures, and he feels warmer than ever as Sapnap holds him close. 

Sapnap and Quackity don’t ask questions. They kindly and gently remind him of things he’s forgotten, and they laugh it off when he does, even though he knows they’re worried. Sapnap makes him hot cocoa and Quackity chats with him in a mix of Spanish and English, and he couldn’t be happier. 

Later, they all sit on the couch and watch a movie. Sapnap puts a new patch on Karl’s hoodie, a nice green one to go with the swirl design. They all cuddle together, warm and safe and so so loved, and Karl falls asleep with Quackity’s wing draped over him and Sapnap’s hand in his. 

When Karl wakes up, he is in the future. 

There is not much to this story, just a graveyard, which Karl slowly walks through, taking time to read the familiar names on the stones. Some make him feel sad. Others make him just feel a bit bad. 

There are two at the end of the row. He does not recognize those names, though they nag at the back of his mind. He is crying, sobbing really, and he doesn’t know why. 

A bloodstained beanie is draped across one, a frayed headband on the other. A chilling wind blows past, bringing with it a yellow feather and the scent of ash. There is no one to hug Karl. 

Nothing tells him he is home, or safe, or loved at all. When he wakes up back in the In-Between, he is hollow. He does not remember the names on the headstones, or why the items bothered him so much. All he knows is that he must prevent that future from happening. 

Everything around him is screaming that the future cannot be changed, but for once, Karl doesn’t listen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly probably the favorite out of all the ones I’ve written, and the only one to make me actually cry. Day one was super harsh, sure, but there’s just something about hurting Karl that made me sad. I’m really proud of this one, what do you guys think! 
> 
> Have some virtual cheesecake, which is my favorite dessert! Thanks for reading so far!


	5. Day 5: Gunfighter Eyes (“Take Me Instead”)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After losing the only people he cares about, Technoblade finds himself on a quest for revenge with a kid he never wanted to take care of riding shotgun. 
> 
> Characters: Technoblade, Tommy, Quackity, Philza, Wilbur, Philza’s wife Kristen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This takes place in a sort of modern au. The basic premise is that the Antarctic Empire is a world superpower that’s taken over much of the known world. This takes place after the wars. Phil was a fighter pilot and Techno was a normal soldier who both quickly became infamous for how powerful they were. Techno made many enemies throughout the war, including a group of rebels from the small conquered nation of L’Manburg, the Butcher Army. 
> 
> While Quackity is more of a villain character from Techno’s perspective, he has his reasons for what he’s doing. I want to make a one shot from his perspective, and maybe I will at one point if this one is well received. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: Light gore, character death, mentions of war, guns.

Technoblade hated gunfighter eyes. 

He was fine with blue eyes. Regular blue eyes were fine. It was that particular blue, so light it was almost gray, that he hated. Gunfighter eyes were steel blue, light and hard and too expressive all at once. 

Phil had gunfighter eyes. He made jokes that they were good luck, that they were the reason he was the empire’s greatest fighter pilot. He told Techno stories of his days as a newbie, before the long years of the war drained superstitions from everyone. In the early days of the war, when Phil couldn’t fly, his squadron didn’t go out at all. Without Phil’s gunfighter eyes, the mission wouldn’t be successful. 

Techno thought that was stupid, but Phil believed in it wholeheartedly. When he retired, and half his former squadron went down in a fight against one of the rebellions, he was the first to put blame on himself. Not because he was arguably the best pilot the empire had, but because of those stupid gunfighter eyes. 

Maybe he just needed an explanation for what happened, because losing his former friends had crushed Phil. He used his eyes to explain a lot of things, and it honestly annoyed Techno to no end. Eyes weren’t the reason Phil was called the Angel of Death. He earned that titled, raining fiery destruction down on the empire enemies from the moment he was old enough to enlist. He wasn’t able to sit still not because of his eyes, but because he was born for battle. Techno didn’t understand why he couldn’t get that. 

It was those very eyes that made Phil go on that last mission. After the war finished, he and Techno both had struggled to settle down. Once commanders of entire armies of people, now they were just two broke adults who couldn’t sit still. Pete, the emperor, and an old friend of Phil’s, could see that. He gave them both jobs at his right hand, hunting down anyone choosing to rebel against the empire. 

A small group from L’Manburg, one of the newly conquered territories, was gaining traction. They called themselves the “Butcher Army”, and they had an alleged hit list of members of the empire they wanted to take down. Techno was apparently one of them. 

Phil wanted to take the job himself. He’d use himself as bait, the friend of the dangerous Blade. Techno had wanted to go instead. They were after him, after all, and he didn’t want Phil in danger. Both Phil and Pete had said no to Techno. 

“I’ve got gunfighter eyes,” Phil had said when Techno pleaded to go instead, “I’ll be fine.” 

Those gunfighter eyes hadn’t stopped him from getting killed. 

Now, looking down at the angry child he was supposed to protect, Techno realized he really, really hated gunfighter eyes. 

Techno had met Phil when he was eight years old and trying to enlist in the empire’s armed forces. He was young and angry, and he didn’t remember much except that. He had decided that it was better to fight and to die than to never live at all. 

Phil had been vetting through recruits that day, and if it had been any other person, they would have scoffed at the child and sent him away. Phil didn’t do that. He didn’t let Techno enlist, of course. Instead, he took Techno home, taught him how to fight, and most importantly, taught him how to live. 

The house deep in the woods of the empire was where Techno grew up, away from the busy roads and claustrophobic alleys he had always hated. There, Phil taught him the beauty of life, and how to end it. 

Techno grew up and trained alongside Phil’s son, Wilbur. Wilbur didn’t inherit his father’s eyes, but he did inherit his passion, even if he put it towards music rather than fighting. They were born on the same day, and even if they weren’t truly brothers, they were twins, and cared about each other dearly. 

Though Techno couldn’t remember his real mother, Phil’s wife, Kristen, was the closest thing to one he could think of. She loved Techno like he was her own, and taught him ways to fight dirty even Phil had hesitated to teach. She was where Wilbur got his fire, and who taught Techno how to control his. 

For the first time, Techno had found people he cared about, and who cared about him. 

Of course, he grew up, and was finally able to actually enlist. He made his way through the ranks quickly, earning himself the title the Blood God to Phil’s Angel of Death. He kept himself busy after the war, only visiting once after for Kristen’s funeral. 

Techno, for a long time, hated Tommy. It wasn’t the child’s fault his mother had died in childbirth, but part of him blamed Tommy anyway. Now, Tommy was the only one left in the family, and Techno had to get over his childish hatred if he was going to protect the kid. 

There was a reason Techno had cut off contact in the first place. He had made enemies in the war, lots of them, and if word of him having people he loved got to those enemies, they’d be dead. There was no doubt about it. 

That’s why Techno hadn’t wanted Phil to take that mission. Doing so put a target on Phil’s back, and on Wilbur’s and Tommy’s. 

When the word came that Phil had been murdered, Techno didn’t have time to grieve, not if he wanted to save his twin. For the first time since he was eighteen years old, he returned back to the forest house. He thought he had time. 

He didn’t. 

Tommy had been away at school when it happened, but Wilbur was at home. Whoever had gotten to Phil had clearly already had arrangements made for Phil’s family. The house had been broken into, the door Phil had lovingly carved smashed in, windows broken. Techno had picked his way through the rubble of the living room and straight into the study, where he knew Wilbur spent all his time. That’s when he saw him. 

Wilbur’s body had been left behind like it was nothing, face up, eyes still open. A bloody smile was carved into his neck, making a mockery of the bright smile from Techno’s memories. Techno wanted to be sick. 

He didn’t have time for that, though. Only one member of the family remained, and though Techno didn’t particularly like Tommy, he was next. Techno wasn’t going to let Phil’s youngest son and Wilbur’s brother fall to these people who hadn’t even bothered to close Wilbur’s eyes. 

So he drove Phil’s old farm truck to Tommy’s school, picked the kid up, and looked into those gunfighter eyes and told him his family was dead. 

In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the best thing to tell a twelve year old. It had taken the first hour of driving for Tommy to stop screaming at Techno, and it was another two hours before he stopped crying. Tommy didn’t believe him at first, and even after the hours of screaming and crying it had taken longer than Techno to count to convince him. 

Tommy knew who he was, at least. Phil had told Tommy stories about him, apparently, and Techno guessed he was lucky Tommy didn’t think he was the one who killed them. Tommy trusted too easily. 

A sick, selfish part of Techno kept wishing that the Butcher Army had taken Tommy instead of Wilbur. At least Wilbur would have been quiet. He might have actually been some help. Then Techno recalled Wilbur’s body in the study and realized he wouldn’t wish that on anyone, not even if it meant having his twin back. 

“Where are we going?” Tommy asked, finally breaking Techno from his thoughts. Techno looked over at him. It had been at least four hours since he had taken Tommy from school, and the kid looked exhausted but jittery, which Techno expected came with learning your family was dead and you were hunted. 

Techno let out a bit of a sigh. “Well, I’m gonna take my revenge. And you’re taggin along, because I can’t keep you safe if you’re not with me.” 

Tommy puffed out his cheeks a little, angry for some reason or another. The kid had two default emotions, angry and sad, and both annoyed Techno to no end. “I’m going to help, right? They killed Wil and my dad. I’m going to help you kill then, right?” 

“No.” Techno huffed out a bit of a laugh. “You’re a kid, for one, and they want you dead, for two. I’m not putting you right in their hands.” 

Tommy let out a string of curses, surprising Techno with the amount he knew. “They killed my family! You want me to just sit all nice and still while you get to kill them?” His anger was so much different than Wilbur’s, all hot and loud, while Wilbur’s was icy and quiet. Techno found Tommy’s was significantly more annoying. 

He eventually calmed down as Techno ignored him, and they fell into an uneasy silence. Tommy was fuming, but he was finally quiet, and at that point, that’s all that mattered for Techno. 

“Where are we going, though? Like what town?” Tommy asked again after a little bit. He propped his legs on the dashboard. 

Techno shoved Tommy’s legs down. “Don’t put them up there, you’ll ruin your dad’s truck.” That was a low blow, and Tommy flinched, and Techno tried not to feel any satisfaction at it. “We’re heading to L’Manburg. One of the empire’s new territories. That’s where the rebel gang came from, and your brother has— had a friend there that might know of them.” He explained, despite not wanting to give Tommy too much information. 

With a frown, Tommy stated loudly, “I hate L’Manburg. It’s stupid.” Techno was going to laugh. It was such a ridiculous statement, since Tommy had never even seen the place. Then he saw Tommy’s face and the laughter died in his throat. The child was staring straight ahead with such intensity Techno almost shuddered. Those gunfighter eyes were full of so much hatred and fire that, for once, Techno could see the similarities between him and Wilbur.

Techno, for the first time, smiled at Tommy. Maybe he didn’t hate the kid as much as he thought. Maybe Tommy was growing on him. Whatever it was, Techno caught himself smiling more throughout the rest of the drive. 

Techno booked a room in an inn under a fake name, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. It was hard, with long pink hair and red eyes, but he tucked his ponytail under a baseball cap and hid his eyes with a pair of sunglasses. Tommy snickered at the look, but it did its job. 

As soon as they were inside the room, Techno locked the door. “I’m going out to get some supplies. You’ll keep the door locked, the lights off, and the curtains drawn.” He told Tommy, who was likely not listening. 

Tommy hummed a little in agreement. He had been quiet since they got there, and Techno assumed he was exhausted. Emotionally and physically. He didn’t even argue when Techno told him to stay behind. Techno wouldn’t admit that that worried him. 

It took another repetition of the instructions before Techno left Tommy. He had to remind himself that he didn’t care about the kid, that he was only taking care of Tommy out of a debt to Phil. He wasn’t very convincing. 

“I don’t care about Tommy.” He repeated out loud. That earned him some weird stares from the other people in the store he had gone to to get hair dye and weapons. Who were they to judge? They were shopping at a store that sold everything from knives to candy. Techno bought both of those things, as well as a few different colors of hair dye. The knife was for Tommy. The candy was, too, but only because the kid was tired. 

He went back to the inn with his purchases. He’d need to dye his hair before he did anything else, and he’d need help if he didn’t want it to look like he’d done it himself to avoid detection. Besides, it was late, and his contact was probably asleep by now. 

Tommy was asleep on the couch when Techno came in. Hair dye could wait until the morning, too, it seemed. It wasn’t because he cared about Tommy. The kid needed to be well rested to protect himself and help with Techno’s hair. So Techno let him rest. 

If he expected Tommy to be grateful for that, he was extremely wrong. The kid woke him up in the morning by sitting on his chest, holding the bag of candy. 

“Sorry Techno…” He smiled a little, clearly not sorry. “But I happened to see you had some candy in this nice bag of yours and wanted to know if I could have it.” 

Techno resisted the urge to throw him off. He could easily do it. The kid was a bit tall for his age, but skinny, and it would be all too easy to just pop up and make him go flying. Techno didn’t, though. Instead, he nodded. “It’s all yours, kid. You’ve just gotta help me with something first.” 

With his mouth already full of sweets, Tommy scampered off of Techno. “What is it? I don’t want to do it.” 

“Well, you will, or I’m dumping the rest of the candy out.” Techno threatened, rolling his eyes. He grabbed the bag with the hair dye in it. “We’re dying my hair. Pink is too conspicuous. I was thinking brown, like—“ 

Tommy’s entire demeanor changed in less than a second. “Like Wilbur’s.” He said, uncharacteristically quiet. He grabbed the bag from Techno, rifling through the different colors. “Well, I want mine brown too, if you’re doing it.” He found the package he was looking for and fished it out. “But I think you should go blonde.” 

That took a moment to register. “Blonde?” Techno laughed a bit, incredulously. “I’m not dying my hair blonde.” 

“You’re not, but I’m dying your hair, and I’m dying it blonde.” Tommy had this mischievous grin on his face that Techno had to suppress the urge to punch off. “I won’t do it if it’s not blonde.” 

“And you won’t have candy if you don’t do it.” Techno reminded him. 

Tommy shrugged a little, his focus completely on this now. “I can live without candy. I can’t live without you not being blonde.” 

“That doesn’t make sense.” 

“You don’t make sense.” 

Techno had to take a long, deep breath. Violence against children was usually frowned upon. Even against brats like Tommy. “Fine, I’ll go blonde. But not bleach blonde or anything. Dark blonde, like yours and— like yours.” 

Tommy ignored Techno’s almost slip up, grabbing the package for the dark blonde hair dye. He read through it before getting straight to work. He went quiet when he worked, completely focused on the task. It was almost blissful. Techno used to love when Phil or Wilbur would play with his hair. 

After a few minutes of unsuccessfully trying to comb through Techno’s tangled locks, Tommy broke that bliss. “Do you ever even brush your hair?” He snapped in frustration, trying to get the brush through the knot he was stuck in. 

“Not— really.” Techno couldn’t exactly lie. “I used to. Well— Phil used to do it for me. He’d braid it, before we went into battle.” That’s why he was so hesitant to cut it. He’d rather look like Rapunzel than lose one of his last ties to his years with Phil’s family. “...Wilbur did, too. When I was at home with them. He started it.” 

Tommy hummed a little. Techno couldn’t see his face, but he had a feeling the kid was holding back tears. “They talked about you a lot.” He said finally as he began working the dye into Techno’s hair. “They loved you.” 

Techno nodded a little, a jerky thing, staring straight ahead. He was glad Tommy couldn’t see his face either. “Phil wrote about you in his letters. And he showed me pictures whenever we were together. They loved you a lot, too.” 

There was another moment of quiet. This time, it was the unsteady feeling of shared grief. Tommy had stopped working the dye in at one point, and Technk turned to look at him. 

Tears were running down Tommy’s face. “Sorry,” he murmured, tugging off the hair dye glove so he could wipe away those tears. “Sorry, I’m— I’ll get back to work.” 

“It’s okay.” Techno surprised himself, gently placing a hand over Tommy’s ungloved one. Then the moment broke, and Techno jerked his hand back. “Continue whenever you’re ready.” He said finally, his voice gruff with emotion. 

Tommy continued to dye Techno’s hair in silence. Now, they only had to wait while it set. “Why’d you never come back? After the war and all?” He asked finally. 

“I—“ Techno went to say his reason, that if he had, this exact situation would have happened a lot earlier, but it felt too hollow and excuse-like. “I don’t know, really. Because I was afraid, I think. Of getting hurt, and hurting your mom and Wilbur. And then you were born, and Kristen—“ 

Tommy cut him off. “I know. I’m the one who made her go. You didn’t want to visit because of me.” 

It was true, partially, but hearing this kid, this kid who had already lost so much and was now traveling with someone who he thought hated him for something he could never control say it hurt. 

“That’s not— that’s not true, Tommy.” Techno said finally. “I was just— scared.” That was the truth, finally. He had been scared. 

“I’m scared now.” Tommy said softly, so light Techno almost didn’t hear it. 

Techno nodded softly, putting his hand back on Tommy’s. “I know. I am too. But I’m not going to run away from my fears this time.” 

“I’m not, either,” Tommy declared, and Techno knew he was telling the truth.

They got the lead from Techno’s contact after the dye had settled. Brown hair fit Tommy, even if the blonde looked awful on Techno. They were much more inconspicuous now and that’s all that mattered. 

After getting the lead, they were on the road again. The Butcher Army had left L’Manburg, going after another target on their hit list. Techno wondered if the other target had a family, too. He wondered if they had come home for the first time in years to find one of the last people they cared about dead. He decided he wouldn’t let that happen to anyone else. 

Tommy was riding shotgun again, staring straight ahead as he messed with his new brown curls. Techno could see the resemblance between Tommy and Wilbur. They had a similar set in their jaw when they were planning something. 

“You’re going to stay in the car, you know that right? I’ll take care of them, and you’ll stay here where it’s safe.” Techno narrowed his eyes a bit as they stopped at a stoplight, turning to face Tommy. 

Tommy puffed his cheeks out slightly. “Yeah yeah, I know.” He muttered, crossing his arms. He looked so much like Wilbur it almost hurt. 

They went quiet for a bit. Techno knew Tommy wasn’t convinced, but he hoped the kid would be smart enough to stay inside. He knew he’d be able to make the Butchers pay, but he couldn’t if he was trying to protect Tommy while doing so. Surely the kid had to know that. 

After about a week of travel, they found the place Techno’s contact had said the Butcher Army was meeting. Techno parked the truck a few blocks away from the building. “Stay here. If I don’t come back, take your knife and run. Don’t stop running.” He didn’t want to scare Tommy, but he had to make sure the boy was safe. 

Tommy nodded. “But you’re going to come back, right?” 

Techno didn’t answer. He tossed the keys to Tommy and went out, waiting for him to lock the door before he left. He took one last look at Tommy, at the boy who had sort of become like his little brother. He made a promise to Phil and Wilbur that he’d avenge them today, and that he’d come back for Tommy.

He wasn’t able to. 

The fight had been going well. He had easily disarmed most of the Butcher Army members there, and was about to kill the leader when there was a shout from the entrance. 

There stood Tommy, one of the Butcher Army’s   
grunts holding a gun to his head. Techno froze. Quackity, the leader who Techno currently had pinned to the ground, was able to get free. He shoved Techno, and Techno took a step back. 

He couldn’t understand what was happening. Tommy was supposed to be safe in the car. Techno was going to win and then come back and Tommy would be safe. Tommy was very much not safe. He was deathly still and quiet, his eyes wide and face pale. 

“Tommy,” Techno almost whispered, “why are you here?” Everyone was frozen, the air in the room incredibly tense. 

Tommy scoffed a little, trying to remain nonchalant despite the gun to his head. “Well, ask this butt. I was just chilling in the care but then he comes along and—“ 

The frozen moment shattered as the man holding the gun slammed it into the side of Tommy’s head, making him cry out. Techno lunged for them, but stopped short as the man holding Tommy held up the gun again. He grabbed his own gun, narrowing his eyes. 

“Let him go. He has nothing to do with this.” Techno snarled, whipping around and pointing the gun at Quackity. “Hurt him, and I’ll have you all dead in minutes.” 

Quackity’s eyes flashed and he smirked arrogantly. “If you make another move, I’ll have my guy shoot him. You’re really in no position to be making demands here, Blade.” He crossed his arms. “So I suggest doing what we say.” 

A bead of blood was trickling down Tommy’s face, mingling with the tears, and Techno felt a wave of anger so strong he had to physically keep himself from snapping the man holding Tommy’s neck. “He doesn’t have anything to do with this. I’m only taking care of him for Phil.” 

“That makes him have everything to do with this, Blade.” Quackity snarled. “You took everything from us. Now I’m taking everything from you.” 

“You can do whatever you want to me!” Techno shouted, all calm gone. “Kill me, torture, whatever. Just leave the kid out of this. He’s not anything to me, I swear!” 

Quackity tilted his head to the side and the man holding Tommy slammed Tommy’s face into the wall. There was a loud crack as Tommy’s nose broke and Techno’s resolve snapped. He lunged to save Tommy, but he was stopped by Quackity raising his own gun and pointing it at Tommy. 

Techno stopped short. “He’s nothing to you, huh?” Quackity asked, with a bitter laugh. “No. He’s all you have left, isn’t he?” 

“No,” Techno breathed, his eyes filling with panic. He knew what was coming. This was why he cut off contact with Phil. He had taken so much from people, so it was only fair that they took everything from him, too. He just wished it wasn’t Tommy. He just wished he hadn’t gotten attached to Tommy. 

“Yes,” Quackity said, his smirk widening. “Take him with us. We’ll take this kid just like the empire took countless children away during the war. Give the Blade a taste of his own medicine.” 

Techno let out a yell, resisting the urge to lunge forward and kill Quackity right now. “Take me instead! Do whatever you want to me! Leave Tommy alone!” He felt tears streaking down his face, and he would have been mortified if it weren’t for Tommy. 

Quackity ignored him. “Don’t move, Blade. Take another step and Tommy will be dead, just like your friends. Like your— brother? Twin? Whatever.” He laughed mockingly, his eyes flashing. “Come on, let’s head out. Tell the kid by, Blade. You’ll never see him again.” 

Tommy lifted his head, blood trickling down his face, and he smiled shakily at Techbo. “I’ll be okay, Tech.” He said so quietly Techno wasn’t sure he heard him. Those gunfighter eyes were filled with so much fear and sadness that Techno’s heart broke. 

And then he was gone. Quackity and the member holding Tommy left, and the other members attacked Techno. Techno fought half-detached from his body. They were gone, too, quickly enough. Techno didn’t remember if he had won or if they had been called back but he stood, swaying and bloody, alone. 

The memory of Tommy’s scared gunfighter eyes flashed in his mind again, and that was all he could focus on. Quackity was right about one thing. Tommy was all Techno had left. Now that he was gone, Techno had nothing left to lose. 

And he’d do anything it took to get him back. He’d make them regret not taking him when they had the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is currently one of my longest works, and I’m quite proud of it! The idea for this one came from the wonderful book “She Rides Shotgun” by Jordan Harper. The main characters are described as having gunfighter blue eyes and I quite liked that idea. I wanted to write so much more for this story, there were like— several scenes that I had to cut out like Techno meeting with his contact, the entire week of a car trip to find the Butcher Army, and a couple other things, but this was already much too long so I had to move on. If you’d like to see more of this us, please tell me! I’d be more than happy to oblige. 
> 
> As always, thanks so much for reading! Here’s some virtual candy, pick whatever you’d like!


	6. Day 6: Sleep Doesn’t Come Anymore (Insomnia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of war and pain, Tubbo finds it hard to sleep. 
> 
> Characters: Tubbo, Tommy and a few others are mentioned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones a bit different than usual. I was feeling quite down when I wrote it, but I genuinely love writing poetry and this helped a lot. I relate to Tubbo heavily, so here’s the Tubbo apologist chapter! 
> 
> But on a more serious note, this ones not really just about Tubbo. It’s about anyone really, who was a kid who’s been through way too much and who’s still hated for things outside their control. It’s for anyone who can’t sleep. You’re valid, you’re strong, and you’re going come out okay, alright? You just have to keep pushing though. 
> 
> Trigger warnings: Referenced war, abuse, and child neglect.

Sleep doesn’t come anymore. 

You try, of course   
Eyes closed tight, blankets pulled close   
Like you can block out the bad dreams with their warmth

But it’s not the dreams needing blocking out   
Because the dreams don’t come, that’s the problem   
It’s the memories keeping you up. 

You’ve tried everything,   
Walking, reading, drinking warm milk   
It does nothing. 

You can’t outwalk them anymore than you couldn’t outrun the things that hurt so bad in the first place,   
When you try to read the words bleed on the page you can’t focus,   
You are drowning in milk that burns like fireworks to the chest— 

Nothing.   
Nothing helps. 

You could go to your friend, of course   
Your compass leading you home together you could fight the memories,   
Side by side like you fought in all the wars before. 

Together you’ve beaten back tyrants and gods   
Surely things as trivial as memories would fall   
Or at least you could provide each other comfort. 

But then you remember how you hurt him   
How you put the lives of people who never loved you over his   
How half his memories are your fault. 

Do you keep him up?   
Does what you did haunt him the way so much haunts you?   
You don’t want to know the answer,

And you cannot go to him.   
You’ve already burdened him so much. 

You haven’t slept for a while,   
Not since the world burned apart because fireworks burned themselves into your memory   
And you can’t close your eyes without seeing them. 

After fireworks were explosions and withers   
And now the stars at night look like little bombs going off in the sky  
And you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. 

The weight of the world that doesn’t love you,   
You have to stay up and plan you can’t fall behind   
Can’t become the source of so many bad memories keeping you up. 

And the the world ends,   
And it’s your fault this time the destruction is your fault   
And you can no longer sleep because you’ve cost everyone so much. 

(And they hate you because you take no accountability)   
(Well, neither did they for what they did to you.) 

Sleep doesn’t come because you were born in a war zone,   
Battle cries took the place of lullabies   
Your bedtime stories were tales of war glory and no mercy. 

And now that you are grown   
And the wars are done   
You cannot settle down, you cannot sleep through the night.

Because you were taught that the fighting never ends   
Your “lessons” were violence so you are waiting for the day   
You mess up and they take everything away again. 

So you don’t sleep.   
You don’t let your newfound happiness lull you into a false sense of security   
You stay awake and alert and you don’t know why that’s wrong. 

You shouldn’t have to stay awake.  
But you do anyway. 

Memories swirl in your head,   
They chase rest and dreams away,   
And you shouldn’t have those memories in the first place. 

You can’t get help,   
Because you’ve been taught you’re a burden and you don’t want to hurt anyone else again   
And you shouldn’t feel that way. 

You are broken,   
Not by your own hand but by your upbringing   
And the adults around you are to blame but they tell you to have accountability. 

Maybe one day, the scars will heal.   
Maybe one day, you’ll realize how loved you are and find you can come to those you care about.   
Maybe one day, you’ll get the apologies you deserve. 

But for now, you’re wide awake.   
Sleep doesn’t come anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for getting all mushy there at the beginning. I may not post anything tomorrow morning, as though I’m trying desperately to get caught up with the days of February, I had a bit of a hard time today. 
> 
> I really do care about each and everyone one of you reading this, though, and you’re stronger than you know. 
> 
> Here, have a whole virtual dessert buffet. You deserve it <3

**Author's Note:**

> I know I don’t have the best track record with finishing things, but let’s see how I do! This’ll be fun! Thanks for sticking with me and reading along, it means a lot!


End file.
